


Reasons for Me To Find You

by Quettaser



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Call Call Call! (Music Video), M/M, Sort Of, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quettaser/pseuds/Quettaser
Summary: “Where’s the tall one?” Minghao asked as Seungcheol took off his helmet. Seungcheol looked confused. “You know, the tall one? Tries to be intimidating, face like a puppy?”“Mingyu?” Seungcheol scoffed. “Why do you care?”Minghao smirked. “He’s normally on the longest legs of the race with me,” he said, pointedly looking at Seungcheol's legs. Any day he could mess with Seungcheol was a good day.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 8
Kudos: 127
Collections: Seventeen Rare Pair Fest: Round 1





	Reasons for Me To Find You

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [deadwine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadwine/pseuds/deadwine) in the [SVTRarePairFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SVTRarePairFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:** sort of enemies to lovers street racing au
> 
> <3 title from The Seatbelts - Call Me Call Me

Minghao had always loved racing, long before he ever learned to drive. The rush of winning, careening past someone else into the lead, the sheer speed of cutting a corner a little too close. It was only natural that when he ended up in Korea that he’d ended up with Jihoon, Jeonghan and their crew, racing bikes at night for extra cash so they could sell them during the day.

When Junhui had introduced him to Jihoon, Jihoon had understood Minghao right away, even though Minghao’s Korean had been terrible. That was the nice thing about working for Jihoon, he only ever talked when he needed to, plus he let Minghao make all the custom art for any customers they could upsell. 

Seokmin, on the other hand, talked all the time. “Do you think Vibe Crew is coming tonight?” He’d been rambling to Minghao about the other crews as they all waited for the kkt from Jihoon assigning them their leg of the night’s race.

“Junhui said they were up to race tonight.” Minghao spun the phone in his hand, considering. “Jisoo, huh?”

For once, Seokmin didn’t have a response. He just sputtered and hunched further over his bike. He was pouting so Minghao reached out to squeeze his arm. “Was I that obvious?” he muttered.

Minghao hummed and thought about all the times Seokmin had asked him about his conversations with Junhui and how the rest of Vibe Crew was doing. “A little.”

Seokmin shook his head and sighed. “If I was that obvious to you, then it should have been obvious to him. Why hasn’t he said anything?”

Minghao tried to stifle his laugh. “Were you going to _date_ him?”

Seokmin groaned, which wasn’t a no.

“Like Romeo and Juliet,” said Wonwoo, looking up from his phone. “That’s so sweet, Seok.”

“No one’s that serious about the crews,” Minghao said, rolling his eyes. They had names like Vibe Crew and Greasers and the Pirates. Yeah, they were breaking a ton of laws, but organized crime had gotten out of street racing when the bikes got too affordable, Jeonghan had said. They were way more into real estate these days. No one had killed anyone over a race in years and while crashes happened, the other crews always quietly helped out where they could.

There were grudges, but what’s a few punches between rivals?

“That kind of thing never works out,” Jeonghan sighed from the other side of the garage, slinking in from the back of his barber shop like he had materialized out of the shadows. “C’mon, get ready, Jihoon gave us the route.”

Minghao’s phone buzzed in his hand. Sure enough, the message from Jihoon was just two addresses. Minghao’s start and end points for his leg of the race. Can’t just line up a bunch of racers and run a set course anymore, Junhui had told him, back when he’d first come to Seoul. Too many cops to pay off and too many nosy neighbors. It was easier and safer to let racers choose their route from one safe point to another and run the races as relays. From everything Junhui and Jihoon had ever told Minghao, Heeyeon set up clean, safe races.

He spent a minute looking at the map on his phone, deciding on his best route before putting on his jacket and helmet and heading out with the rest of his crew.

It was quiet in the warehouse that was the starting point of Minghao’s leg, just the low industrial hum of this corner of the city. He was the first racer there, but others would show up soon. Like now, a Chaebol rider pulling up on his gaudy bike. Minghao didn’t think any of the Chaebol’s were actual chaebols, they just spent their money on pretentious suits and bikes. Jeonghan had said that there were a few real chaebols that raced regularly, but that they didn’t play well with the crews.

But before the racer could even take off his helmet, Minghao could see it wasn’t the Chaebol he was expecting. “Where’s the tall one?” Minghao asked as Seungcheol took off his helmet. Seungcheol looked confused. “You know, the tall one? Tries to be intimidating, face like a puppy?”

“Mingyu?” Seungcheol scoffed. “Why do you care?”

Minghao smirked. “He’s normally on the longest legs of the race with me,” he said, pointedly looking at Seungcheol's legs. Any day he could mess with Seungcheol was a good day. “Just wondering why you aren’t on anchor.” Seungcheol normally raced Jeonghan at the end of the relay.

“Needed a change,” Seungcheol replied as he got off his bike.

Minghao hummed with skepticism. He and Seungcheol had scuffled a few times in the past. Seungcheol had a habit of putting himself into the middle of problems that weren’t his business. He might be courteous to Jeonghan and Jisoo and some of the other crew leaders but that didn’t mean he could step into any of their disputes whenever he wanted.

Though as many times as Minghao had needed to all but grab him by the scruff of the neck, Seungcheol had never seemed bothered or like he held a grudge. Minghao was sure the few times they’d actually thrown punches, they’d both pulled back.

“That’s new,” Seungcheol said, pointing at the fade detailing on Minghao’s bike. He’d come closer than Minghao had expected, Seungcheol nearly touching Minghao’s thigh where he leaned against his bike.

Minghao shrugged. “Testing out some new techniques.” The mutual …was it respect? Minghao had a hard time putting a word to it. Whatever it was between them felt charged. It crackled and sparked and felt like static on Minghao’s fingers when the air was dry and cold. It made him itch to use his hands.

“When are you gonna customize _my_ bike?”

“You’d actually let me touch it? I’m not expensive enough.”

Seungcheol walked back over to his bike and ran his hand over the body, considering. “Charge me double, then.” Seungcheol looked up, made eye contact and then didn’t break it. “I’ve seen your work, it’s good. You should charge everyone more.”

Minghao couldn’t help but narrow his eyes. ”Are you flattering me?”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

Minghao scoffed and let himself look away. He was here to race, not be teased by someone with terrible taste in both shoes and bikes.

“Ah, Minghao, when have I lied to you?” Seungcheol was close again and Minghao silently cursed at himself for looking back. “I’ll bring it tomorrow morning to the shop. You can...” Seungcheol trailed off, tongue poking at the corner of his mouth like he was going to find the right words by taste, “do whatever you want with it. I trust you.”

The tone of Seungcheol’s voice made Minghao uncertain if they were still talking about bikes.

The roof of the warehouse rattled with the sound of approaching racers and then Hansol and another racer - a Pirate named Mingi, Minghao was pretty sure - rolled in. Minghao bit back his response to Seungcheol as he backed away to his bike. Right, he had a race to focus on. Except, he kept catching Seungcheol glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

When all the racers for the leg had arrived, they lined up with direction from the closest thing they had to a race official, one of Heeyeon’s friends with a bluetooth earpiece and a light-up baton like an air traffic controller. Much to Minghao’s irritation, he’d been lined up next to Seungcheol and when he made the mistake of looking, Seungcheol winked at him. Minghao’s hands itched again, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with them.

The rising whine of the nearby bikes cut through the tension and Minghao and Seungcheol both reached for their helmets. “See you on the other side,” Seungcheol said.

Minghao focused on securing his helmet and not on the hint of teeth in Seungcheol’s smirk. He concentrated on warming up the engine of his bike and not the careful way Seungcheol put on his gloves.

The sound of approaching bikes grew louder and Seungkwan tore through the warehouse on his Chaebol bike, just meters ahead of Seokmin.

Seungcheol left the warehouse first, tearing out on his bike with Minghao just seconds behind him. He’d already decided on his route for this leg, but he followed Seungcheol instead, ignoring his plans.

Late at night like this, the streets were sparse with other cars and it was easy to weave in and out of traffic, close behind Seungcheol’s bike. Minghao loved the thrill of it, the careful control of his weight and balance to skirt through the narrow gaps in cars and taking the turns as fast as he could, chipping away at Seungcheol’s lead.

It took him less than three minutes to catch up. He didn’t think Seungcheol could see him wink through the visor of his helmet, so he held up a peace sign when Seungcheol looked over at him, before peeling off hard to the right, back towards his original route.

He didn’t see another racer for nearly ten minutes, he’d chosen his route to avoid the straightforward roads and highways and choosing the way he knew would be emptier, quiet residential neighborhoods that wouldn’t care if he whipped around turns with his bike bent at a dangerous angle. It was like music, the hum of the engine, the whip of the wind and the screech of his tires. 

As he neared the end of his leg, he found Hansol as he merged onto the highway. He could hear Hansol’s faint, “‘Sup, dude,” over the roar and Minghao nodded his head in acknowledgement.

He left Hansol behind at the next off ramp and found himself next to Seungcheol on his obnoxious bike. Minghao knew they were probably only thirty seconds from the end of their leg, so he stuck close to Seungcheol, cutting off his space to maneuver and forcing him to take the outside of the last turn as they careened into the parking deck. Minghao’s lead couldn’t have been more than two meters, but that was enough to get Jeonghan started on the final stretch before Mingyu could take over for Seungcheol.

Minghao had won. Adrenaline thrummed through him as he took off his helmet and yelled in victory before controlling himself again. He didn’t let himself look over at Seungcheol. Hansol was just pulling into the parking deck behind them, neck and neck with Mingi and a few other racers following after.

Most of the time, they’d all head to the end of the race because that’s where the party would be after, as long as they didn’t get chased out by cops. But today Minghao waited, stretching his legs and checking over his bike. It wasn’t because he saw that Seungcheol wasn’t leaving either. He was saying something friendly to Hansol before Hansol peeled out, the last few racers with him.

Once again, Minghao was alone with Seongcheol. It wasn’t awkward but it was tenuous, whatever this was that sparked between them. Like the split second appearance of a gap between cars, or the difference between taking a turn at top speed and wiping out on unforgiving pavement. Minghao had always liked that kind of risk-taking.

“So why don’t you race with Junhui? For Vibe?” Seungcheol asked, closing the distance between them.

Minghao bristled and folded his arms. “Oh, because that’s your business?”

“I’m interested,” Seungcheol said, making it sound like a statement, but then he continued, “in knowing more about you.”

“Me.”

Seungcheol didn’t hesitate or shrink back. “You.”

There had always been something dangerous about Seungcheol, behind the hair gel and the flashy bike and the well-cut suits. Not intimidating or threatening exactly, but Minghao could see the sharpness in him, like something spiky hidden under placid water. It could hurt if blindly stepped on.

It was dangerous, the way Seungcheol smiled when Minghao crowded him against the nearest concrete pillar.

It occured to Minghao that perhaps the reason Seungcheol had switched his spot in the race was that he wanted to be here, now. Minghao didn’t enjoy being last to anything and being late to this realization made him want to be first at something else.

So he braced his arms on the pillar next to Seungcheol’s head and leaned in, just close enough to kiss. Or bite, maybe. Or nothing. He was going to leave that up to Seungcheol.

Seungcheol, who lifted his hand to slide a finger along Minghao’s jaw and then gently tapped Minghao’s lips. It was tempting to snap at him, or lick. Or suck even, if Minghao really wanted to accelerate the situation but he couldn’t read Seungcheol’s face well enough to know if that would go over the way he wanted. He wanted to be sure he was striking the right balance between suggestive and aggressive. So instead, Minghao said, “I didn’t think you’d be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Seungcheol said, dropping his finger but not pulling away. He looked intrigued, like Minghao was a bike to be refurbed, like he could rearrange Minghao’s core pieces and put him back together again. Minghao now knew he absolutely wanted Seungcheol to try. “You don’t trust me,” Seungcheol said like it was a summary report. “I try not to play with people that don’t trust me.”

“Well that’s not very fun.” Minghao felt himself pout, just for a moment.

“It’s more rewarding in the long run.”

Minghao hummed. Seemed dubious, but Seungcheol seemed sure and undaunted.

“How about this,” Seungcheol said, tugging lightly at the collar of Minghao’s leather jacket and Minghao leaned into the pull so Seungcheol was next to his ear, “I leave my bike at Jihoon’s and let you put your hands all over it, maybe by the next race you’ll trust me enough to let me put my hands all over you.”

Minghao waited, just to see if Seungcheol showed any impatience, but he didn’t, staying pressed close. So Minghao relented, “Deal.”

Seungcheol seemed satisfied and slid under Minghao's arms and back to his bike. Minghao didn't wave as he watched him leave, but he felt like it. For a moment. His phone was full of notifications from Seokmin, about the race and about Jisoo but he didn't go to the party waiting for him. He needed time to think. So instead he got on his bike and drove until he was exhausted enough to head home. It wasn't racing anyone else, just his own thoughts.

He wasn’t _hoping_ to see Seungcheol’s bike at the shop the next day, that would be ridiculous. If Seungcheol had wanted to get into his pants, he could have after the race. There wasn’t any reason to keep the deal unless he truly wanted Minghao to trust him.

But there it was, hideous and ostentatious, and Minghao had been given permission to do anything he wanted with it. Jihoon had passed him the work slip when Minghao had walked into the shop. “He was very insistent I write this phone number correctly,” Jihoon had sighed. “Please text him so he leaves me alone.”

Minghao texted a fast _hey_ before he could think about it and then saved the number in his phone. He considered saving it with a few warning emojis but he just typed _Seungcheol_ and went to go sketch some designs in his workbook.


End file.
